


Energizer Honey

by facelessoldwoman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cell Phone Drama, Gen, Hashtags are the worst, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:31:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facelessoldwoman/pseuds/facelessoldwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck together at a coffee shop because we both need to charge our phones AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Energizer Honey

Tony ran his phone within an inch of its life, but what choice did he have?

On his way to an important meeting he got stuck in traffic - and so he conducted the entire meeting through video messaging in the cab. Tony had insisted on reviewing the specifications in the charts before they were forwarded to research and development, and so after taking remote control of the desktop in the conference room he spent the rest of the carbide correcting the theoretical physicists’ mistakes and optimizing their ideas (and obviously inserting a few of his own).

As he rode the elevator up while he spoke into his earpiece to check in with Pepper about his next several appointments. It was never a matter of seeing if he had time for meetings, but of prioritizing who was important enough to solicit his time above all the other people banging on his door at all hours.   

On the top floor of Stark Tower Tony was chased around by an overpaid legal team who would not accept “I don’t like being handed things” as an excuse not to sign document after document, until after a while Tony began to suspect they were really just trying to get his autograph. Tony kept texting Pepper to come out of her office and help him but she just kept texting him thumbs up emoji that reeked of sarcasm.

All the while chime after chime emitted from his phone alerting Tony about email updates on the R&D project, along with marketing ideas and potential investor response. Tony was about to turn off his phone when he saw that his name was trending on Twitter again.

Tony only tweeted when he was drunk, with predictably horrifying results. It got so bad that Pepper took his Twitter account away from him, and changed the password every six hours. The problem was that Drunk Tony was _very good_ at hacking back into his own account. And now, with a lingering hangover from the night before, Tony guessed that he really should have seen this coming.

Pepper began messaging to ask him what the hell he was thinking, and saying that if he didn’t stop posting drunk selfies on the company page she would actually **use** her vacation days until Tony suffocated under the weight of his ineptitude to manage his own life.

Tony put on a pair of sunglasses and fled the building. He checked his phone and saw that his reddened duckface visage was now on CNN with the headline: “#DUMMY”.  Tony immediately received another string of angry and exasperated messages from Pepper when he saw that he had 2% battery life and his phone was about to go into sleep mode in protest.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony muttered, and he ducked into a Starbucks.

Tony ordered a coffee just to keep the appearance of a person who had a reason to be there, and then he found the one remaining power outlet in the entire shop. Tony sat down and pulled out his charger just as another person fumbled against Tony’s hand with a charger of their own.

“Excuse me,” Tony said, plugging his charger into the outlet below the stranger’s.

“Don’t mind me,” the other person said. Tony was surprised by the patience and calm in the voice. Normally everyone in this city spoke loudly and aggressively- ready for a fight even when no one was asking. Tony looked up and saw this guy, this … tall guy… this tall guy made of muscle, with tan skin and honey blond hair.

“ _Hello there_ ,” Tony lifted his sunglasses up so that he could appreciate the view, “You got a name?”

“Steve,” the man said. Tony reflected that Steve didn’t seem amused with the straight-forward approach, his back was straight and his gaze was set elsewhere.

“Aren’t you going to ask who I am?” Tony asked.

“I think I could guess,” Steve motioned toward the TV which was tragically tuned into CNN.

“You’ve got to admit,” Tony said, “That’s not the worst thing they’ve caught me doing.”

Steve spurted out a laugh and Tony grinned.

“What’s the owner of a tech empire doing in a place like this?” Steve asked.

“Same as you, I expect,” Tony said, nodding down to the wall outlet.

“I guess I never expected to run into the guy who owns my phone company to share a wall outlet with me,” Steve said.

“What? My phones run on batteries, too,” Tony said, “I live a normal life, my robot butler puts on my pants one leg at a time just like everybody else.”

“I’m scared to ask if you’re joking,” Steve said.

“I’m kidding!” Tony said, “Well, not really… I mean, I could probably arrange that. No, no I would never trust DUMMY that close to the family jewels: that’s just asking for trouble.”

“DUMMY?” Steve asked, “Do you really have a robot butler?”

“Less of a butler, more of a mascot,” Tony said, “I’ve been trying to upgrade him for ages but he’s notoriously stubborn.”

Steve looked at him like he was crazy. Cripes. This was the opposite of progress. Talk about something normal. What do normal people talk about?

“How about them Yankees, huh?” Tony asked.

“I prefer the Dodgers,” Steve said.

“You have something against teams that win?” Tony asked.

“I don’t like the way the Yankees play,” Steve said, “They just buy up all the best players from the other teams. Take that away what do you have?”

“18 division titles, 40 AL pennants, and 27 World Series championships,” Tony said.

“If I pretend to stop liking the Dodgers will you promise me that you won’t buy them out?” Steve groaned.

“I can be pretty disagreeable, but not even a slight against the Yankees could make me spend money on the Dodgers,” Tony said.

“My luck is changing then,” Steve said.

 “So what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” Tony asked.

“Aside from the obvious?” Steve asked, looking down at their phones, the power bars still in the red.

“Yeah, what’s a Dodgers fan doing so far from LA?” Tony asked.

“I’ve been abroad for a few years, but New York is home,” Steve said, “I’m from Brooklynn.”

“A few years abroad?” Tony asked, “Are you in the service?”

“Not anymore,” Steve said.

Tony paused to think about that, wondering if he should broach the subject or if it was off limits. He decided to move on ahead, “What changed?”

“My first tour I signed up because I believed in what I was doing, but I lost a lot of good men out there,” Steve said, “After I reenlisted I thought I could throw myself back in, follow orders, serve. It’s just not the same.” 

“Well, I’m not a soldier, clearly,” Tony said.

“Clearly,” Steve said. Steve glanced critically at Tony’s fancy suit and ridiculous goatee, and then he smirked.

“But loss changes people, that much I get,” Tony said.

Steve hardened his brow, trying to imagine what a man who has everything would know about loss. Steve shrugged and said, “Yeah, but the world keeps spinning.”

“That she does,” Tony smiled.

A group of young girls across the counter kept looking over their shoulders and giggling. Steve rolled his eyes and said, “Watch out, I think you have admirers.”

“Not my demographic,” Tony smirked, “Those squeals of delight are for you, Spangles.”

“What?” Steve asked.

No sooner had Steve spoken than the bravest of the girls stood up and separated from the ranks. She boldly walked over to them and approached Tony, “Hi there, my name is Jessica.”

“Hello, Jessica,” Tony smiled.

“It’s my first time in New York,” Jessica said, “Could you take a picture of me and my friends?”

“Tell ya what, Jessica,” Tony said, “Why don’t you and friends come over here and take a picture with me: I’m trending.”

“Really?” Jessica asked. She looked up at the TV where Tony pointed to his own recent public inebriation scandal, “Oh my god, that’s YOU!”

“The one and only,” Tony smiled.

“Guys!” Jessica yelled at her friends, “Guys come here, _he’s famous!”_

“NO WAY!” They shouted in unison.

Before Steve even knew what was happening the girls were drinking a round of drinks paid for by Tony. As Steve watched the girls made an impromptu photoshoot on their Starkphones and uploaded the pictures to Twitter using the same hashtags that the media was using to trash Tony in the first place. Within ten minutes the new photos of Tony were on TV, replacing the drunken selfies with photos of grateful smiling fans.

“We gotta get out of here,” Tony said, grabbing Steve by the elbow.

“Excuse me?” Steve asked.

“Ten minutes from now this place is going to be crawling with celebrity-chasers,” Tony said, “Get out while you still can.”

“I thought you were going to stick around,” Steve said, “Wasn’t this all for the press?”

 “The press was to appease Pepper, she deserves a break,” Tony said, “If you stay any longer they’ll eat you alive.”

“The girls or the press?” Steve asked.

“Both!” Tony said.

Once they unplugged their phones and made it out the front doors they heard the girls calling after them, “Bye Mr. Stark! Bye Steve, call me!”

Steve blushed and Tony cackled, “I **_TOLD_** YOU!”

When they stood at full height outside in the open air it was glaringly obvious that Steve was taller, at least half a foot taller, than Tony. Tony bit his lip, determined not to mention it. From the sidewalk Tony flagged down the closest car. Steve was expecting a taxi but instead a black luxury sedan pulled up by the sidewalk. The man driving the car wore a suit and dark glasses. He rolled down the tinted black windows and said, “Get in, jackass - before I drag you in!”

“Excuse me?” Steve asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony patted Steve on the arm, “He’s talking to me.”

Tony opened the door and slid in, beckoning Steve to follow.

“Are you Happy to see me?” Tony asked, looking up to the front of the car where the driver in dark glasses adjusted his mirror and pulled into traffic.

“I’m always Happy,” the driver nodded. Steve knew from his tone that the behind the dark glasses Tony’s driver must be rolling his eyes.

“Quit being a dick to your driver, Tony,” Steve said, elbowing him in the ribs.

“No, you don’t get it,” Tony giggled, “That’s his NAME.”

“Actually my name is Harold,” the driver said.

“Excuse me,” Tony interrupted, “If I call your mother right now what would she call you?”

“Happy,” Happy said, begrudgingly.

“Own it,” Tony said, reclining happily in his seat, “I’ve been called a hell of a lot worse.”

“Sometimes even to your face,” Happy said, “So, where to?”

“I am going to show this American hero a good time,” Tony said, “but first we are going to get a real American cheeseburger. Cheeseburger first.”

 


End file.
